Unified souls
by BlueCoral1
Summary: Alphonse Elric loses his body, and Edward loses his alchemy when they try to transmute their mother. Equivalent exchange. One brother's body and another brother's abilities. However, Edward accidentally performs Eastern alchemy and from their remaining life forces, constructs one being with the souls of both the brothers. AU.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Death

The terrifying noises of the sparks made the environment even more unbelievable. The bloody inhumane creature that lay in front of him passed low grunts. The jarred hot breaths that followed with it hit Edward's face in painful pulses. He was quivering with fear. His brother, his only family, had been torn apart right in front of his eyes, and he had been too cowardly to react. He should have exchanged his own body for Al's. Now it was all over. He kept slamming his hands in the ground, where a much smaller transmutation circle had been drawn. It was of no use. His alchemy had been taken away. Tears trickled down his eyes and it burned red with hatred. Hatred for himself.

_I had been responsible for all this. I forced him into this. He was my little brother. He had nothing to do with this. I murdered him…_

"Damn it…" he shouted out.

"Give my brother back, you rotten deity! Take anything you want, just give him back. He… was my little brother" he hung his head down and the darkness overpowered him.

Five long minutes passed and the acrid smell of rotten meat filled the room. It was too much for him.

_I have no reason to exist anymore. I have lost everything. I have killed my brother. I deserve what happened to him. I deserve death. _

He had to take a knife. There was one in the table which he had used to cut up his thumb. Blood to transmutate his mother. If only he had given his own blood only. Al would have never established any connection with the process then.

_Damn it, Damn it, Damn it… These rotten laws of the world._

It wasn't supposed to be like this. No, he couldn't have imagined that it would turn out like this in a million years. This is not what he wanted. This is not what he deserved.

They would return to their family. They would see their mother smile again, stroke their hair, pat their backs, and praise them for their alchemy. But what was this?

He looked up at the miserable, helpless creature. It was inhuman. Burned skin, hollow in places of eyes, locks of hair of unequal lengths, ribs sticking out, and a heart that could be clearly seen. It was punctured and squirted blood out every time it beat. Its arms and legs were twisted and it could barely move.

Edward's eyes sank with horror. He walked up to the table, took the knife, closed his eyes and walked up to the corpse, the vomiting tendency in him growing every second. He slowly lowered himself and stabbed her heart. Blood squirted out into Edward's face and the heavy panting stopped. He couldn't get himself to pull the knife out.

He wanted to run away, run away from this world and its filthy ways. Suffering must have a cause. But this had no cause. God was taking things away from him without giving anything back. He hated God, he hated alchemy which granted them powers, he hated humans for being ambitious. He wanted to escape.

He banged his head in the transmutation circle's edge and he felt a sharp pain spreading through his forehead. He allowed it to spread, embracing its icy talons. He wanted nothing more than to feel Al again. His sweet brother, defenseless whom he had sworn to protect. He burst out into a hysteric cry. Something wriggled under him. He jerked up. No, it was deeper, much deeper than he expected. He had heard the earth. But how was that possible?

But it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. The world had shut down to him, the earth and the heavens had ceased to exist. There was no point in calling out to him anymore.

The sound grew, reverberating in the room. This was strange but Ed tried to not pay attention. The sound intensity was different in different directions. It was as if the sound was intense along the borders of the giant transmutation circle he and his brother had drawn. Then he felt something he had never felt before. Something was pulling his blood down his veins. It flowed around the circumference of the circle and spread out throughout the lines composing the diagram. He felt his life being drained.

He smiled, maybe for the last time. His last wish was being fulfilled. Death must have been a pleasant feeling, especially when one is anticipating it.


	2. Chapter 2

****Chapter 2: Emergence

Pinako was busy in the kitchen preparing pudding for Winry. She would invite Ed and Al also when it was done. Those three looked so cute together. And ever since Trisha died, this has been virtually their home. The sound of her wooden stirrer against the wooden utensils soothed out her soul. She took a long puff from her pipe and began stirring again. The hot vapour escaped in short bursts. She did not look outside, which allowed her to miss the violent lights coming from the next house, where Ed and Al lived.

Winry hadn't been so fortunate. She was on her room, fixing a few screws and oiling the joints of her dog's automail limb. The room was mostly dark except for an oil lamp that rested on her table. Suddenly, lightning lit up the room. Winry was taken aback for a moment and looked out of the window to check the weather. The weather seemed perfect, but what found her instead was horrifying. The Elric's house was blazing with light, much more intense than what even a house fire could manage. Something was wrong. He saw their windows shatter from some massive force. Fumes started escaping from them. She ran for the door…

She was midway between the two houses when the Elric house blew up. Literally. Its roof shot towards the sky and landed a few hundred feets away. The front door had been reduced to ashes. She saw dense white fumes rise up from the gaping hole where the roof used to be. She shivered, glued to the ground like a statue. Had Ed and Al just been killed? Tears forced themselves out as Winry's body forgot how to react. Her mind shut down completely. She felt grief beyond what could be expressed with howling and screaming. First her parents, and now Ed and Al. They all had abandoned her.

After five long minutes, someone jerked her back to reality. It had started to rain, but only within a small radius. Probably an effect of the intense heat that rose up from Ed and Al's home. She looked up to see a dripping wet man, fair and tall, with rain flowing down his black fringes. He wore blue military costume and had a hat with the military's signal carved on its centre.

"What happened here?" he asked.

Winry kept silent.

Maybe the man understood how she felt, maybe he did not. But he did not ask her further. Instead, he took her hand and began towards the ruins that once used to be the Elric's. There was no obstruction in the form of doors and hence they ended up straight in front of the transmutation circle. There was no Ed, no Al. Only a dark haired boy, so thin that he looked like he hasn't eaten for ages was lying down, unconscious, with his head in a transmutation circle drawn with blood. On his back was a wound, from where blood escaped furiously.

* * *

Colonel Roy Mustang wouldn't have taken any interest in the dark haired unconscious boy if it wasn't for the weird transmutation circle in his back. Now, he sat on a chair, beside the bed where the boy lay, with the small girl and her grandmother weirdly staring at him.

"So you are telling me that you do not know the boy?"

Both of them nodded.

"And that he did not live in the house where he was found."

A nod again.

He raised an eyebrow and looked at the boy's wound again. The ladies had tried everything they could to stop the bleeding, but it wouldn't listen. Although the intensity had diminished, blood still spurted out from all its angles. It was a transmutation circle without a doubt. But it would have been impossible for the boy to have done it himself. It lay just in between his collar bones, below the base of his neck and at the beginning of his backbone. There was no way he could have drawn that perfect a figure there. In fact, the transmutation circle was one that he had never seen or heard of before. In fact, it was unlike any transmutation circle he knew in every way. Instead of geometrical diagrams, it had the portrait of a naked woman, with her arms and legs spread so that she herself formed the edges of the star of david. She was pregnant and the figure was drawn in a way that it looked like an anatomical learning diagram of pregnancy. She had twins on her belly (which was drawn without the outer skin so that they were visible), with every of their details clearly visible if you looked hard enough. You could make out their eyes, nose, lips, everything. In fact, you could even make out that they weren't exact lookalikes and thus they were fraternal twins.

However, that posed a bigger question, who had done it then if the boy hadn't? He was an expert at corpses after the Ishvalan war and he had seen no corpse whatsoever in the room. Moreover, the transmutation circle painted with blood also didn't make sense. It looked like it followed the laws of alchemy in an opposite order. There also had been traces of another circle drawn with chalk which the blood circle overwrote. What was going on? And the grandmother and the little girl claimed that the two boys who lived there hadn't left the house since the evening, or else they always locked the door and came to their place to leave the keys of the main gate. Where were they then?

"This boy could be more valuable than we can imagine," he thought.

Valuable or not, he wasn't leaving without concrete answers. And for that, he had to wait for the boy to regain consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Events

It had been three hours and yet the dark haired boy refused to speak. Nothing had come up so far and Colonel Roy Mustang wondered if the boy could speak at all. No, it was most probably the emotional shock. It could be seen clearly in his eyes. Fear galloping all over the place. It looked like he had seen the light of the day for the first time. He sat at the corner of the bed, curled up, with his knees close to his chest, hugging them with both arms. The wound showed no signs of healing yet. By this time, the blood should have at least clotted.

Someone entered the room. It was the small girl. She carried a tray with a cup of coffee. Roy Mustang accepted it and the girl traced back her steps.

"Say girl, is your grandmother back yet?"

She nodded her head from side to side. She was in pretty bad shape too. He had seldom seen such kids bearing such grave looks, as if they have seen the pain of the world. It reminded him of horrible things, things that made him feel disgusted at himself. He shoved them aside. He couldn't go there, not now, at least. This was serious and it required his attention. The past had flown and there was no point in going back there. He had to live in the present and dream about the future.

He took a long sip.

* * *

"Took you long enough."

"They are nowhere to be seen," Pinako panted out.

"You are a part of the military; please help these helpless women in distress. A woman my age does not have the strength to go all the way to the police station in this weather," now her voice clearly resonating desperation.

The Colonel put the cup down and put back his hat.

"I am sorry to break your bubble ma'am, but you are wrong. As a part of the military, it is not our responsibility to look into the matters of ordinary citizens. If I want it, I can just apologize and leave. But I bear a responsibility for this case also." He forwarded a small letter to Pinako. It was a familiar crooked handwriting. Why had Ed been sending out letters to unknown soldiers?

"The first time I got this letter, I was surprised. Hohenheim's handwriting couldn't have deteriorated this far. But he was lost after all. But the small flicker of hope died as soon as I opened the letter. After all these days, it wasn't him writing to me, it was his one of his sons. Surprisingly, I didn't even know he had sons. I immediately set out for this place. And I was late. If I had arrived a bit earlier, I may have prevented something from happening." He lowered his head so that his eyes were no longer visible.

"Let me tell you a secret. I do not trust the military very much. You can say that I have different tastes. I don't quite agree with the recipe of the chefs but I am not allowed to enter the kitchen yet. Someday, I plan to break in." He smiled. "I shall try everything within my strength if you promise to not let anyone know about anything. Take care of the boy until I have enough information. Feed him, Rest him. We need him to live." He headed out for the door.

"And yeah, I shall immediately assign Hughes to the search. He will figure out everything that needs to be figured out. If they are still breathing, he will follow the sound of their breaths till he finds them. You cannot find anyone better suited for the task than him, believe me."

"You will not find them," said an unfamiliar voice.

The boy looked up for the first time to meet the Colonel's surprised face.

"What do you mean?"

He climbed down his bed and staggered to the door. He was about Winry's height, maybe a bit smaller. The blood from the wound flowed down in rivulets and had painted his white pants red. He passed Roy Mustang and began down the road, the rain assaulting him immediately.

Pinako tried to stop him, but the Colonel motioned her not to.

He had left the road and walked down the barren uninhabited lands. He was heading nowhere in particular, or so it seemed. Roy Mustang began in that direction too and motioned the others to follow. The Boy stopped at about the middle of the field and clapped his hands weirdly. Droplets of blood spattered on the grass below. He slammed his palms on the ground and a house erupted. It was made of mud, but looked exactly like how the Elrics' house would have looked in its unaffected condition. Roy Mustang's eyes widened. That much alchemical strength in a boy this age? Or was he using some kind of a catalyst? His mind immediately raced towards the philosopher's stone, but he forced himself back to reality. Such a thing did not exist. The mud door was ajar and the three of them entered. It was dark except for the faint moonlight that filtered through the mud windows. Roy mustang produced a flame with a click and everyone looked shocked for a second. Their expressions turned wilder when the flame stood in place, floating in mid-air, even when he had retreated his hand.

"Flame Alchemy. Nothing fancy. It's just about producing a spark and keeping an optimum oxygen quantity in the place to allow the fire to burn. Some of the other gases act as fuel. All I have to do is to maintain their quantities at one point in space."

Well, he was known for bragging in Central. But he never seemed to realize that. However, what was much more noticeable than his bragging was the house itself which the flame now revealed. It was a fully furnished house, with tables, chairs, everything. It had even two giant armours at the corner. If you ignored the fact that every last thing was made of mud, you could actually get fooled into believing that someone actually lived there. And the centre of the room was two figures, small like the dark haired boy and the girl. One had a braid and the other had flowing fringes.

But what was shocking was that the clay figures were moving!

They seemed to be having a small argument and the one with the braid seemed to be dominating. Eventually, the other one gave up. Both of them took a knife from the table and cut their index fingers. Water droplets that were soaked into the soil that their bodies were made of, fell into the centre of a giant Transmutation Circle. The Colonel imagined the scene, replacing the water with raw blood.

Roy Mustang shivered a bit. The circle seemed to be that of human transmutation. This was the first time he was seeing one, but there was no mistaking the symbols. He turned to look at the dark haired boy, but he seemed to be watching with wide eyes also, as if he was watching the entire thing for the first time too…


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: So this would be my last update for about 2 weeks. Sorry, exams are starting. :( **

**On a happy note, you have your first fight of the story here. This is also the first fma fighting scene I am writing, so please leave a review if you think I need to keep in mind some points. **

**I have also decided to reply to reviews, which is a healthy habit. **

**the allen walker: Thank you. Reviews are always encouraging. I am happy that you are enjoying the story. :D**

**The Big cheese: Thanks for the reviews. I hope you will find all the explanations you need in the later chapters. :)**

**Hagane2883436: Thanks a lot. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.**

**Chapter 4**

"Say Pinako, tomorrow's the21st, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Pinako from the corner of the wooden room, releasing a puff from her pipe.

"The theoretical test for the admission of new state alchemists. I have to leave in an hour," said a dark haired boy, as he got down from the chair, and pushed it back to its position. In front of the chair was a plate with bits of breads scattered all over it. He hadn't even had his breakfast properly.

Pinako, who had been reading _Everything Automail_, the monthly magazine, intently, jerked up as the words registered. "You can't possibly be going on about that, Almonde" she said, stressing on each syllable for emphasis.

"Yes" came the one word reply, as the footsteps heading upstairs said the rest.

* * *

Almonde walked slowly down the stony steps of the central hall, a chattering mass of people right in front of him. The theoretical exam had gone better than expected, considering that he hadn't even prepared separately for it, when people study for it for years. Not to mention that he was the youngest one there, the second youngest being 7 years older than him.

He avoided the crowd as much as possible and walked slowly, his vision concentrated down. He did not know that the eyes of Colonel Mustang were fixed on him from his car parked at the parking lot.

* * *

Almonde felt a weird tingly feeling for the first time in his life. He couldn't explain what caused it and why. The closest he had come to this particular state was when he was anticipating something on a radio broadcast. But there was something else also, something that doubted his abilities, something that whispered to him that the others there were, perhaps, better than him. Whatever it was, it was annoying.

The person currently performing the exhibition of alchemistic abilities, also known as the practical part of the exam, was at least 12 years older than him. He had orange hair and walked a bit weird. But the moment he drew an alchemical circle, the crowd started whistling and cheering. He was taking the carbon from the fossiled remains of animals deep within the soil and creating organic molecules from it. Soon enough, a tiny sapling sprouted from the soil. Even the Fuhrer looked surprised. Soon enough, the Fuhrer raised his thumb, and he was directed inside the central headquarters. A new recruitment.

Almonde was next. He got up, his throat unusually dry. He walked up to the centre of the field, still not sure on what he should do. He looked up at the raised platform where the Fuhrer stood, and met his eye. Back in the corner, a man called Hughes was giving a commentary on his age, his background and his performance on the theoretical test. The audience burst out into a loud cheer the moment his age was announced. That gave him some sort of a reassurance, and he addressed the Fuhrer directly.

"Sir, as an exhibition of my alchemical skills, I would like to battle him", he pointed a finger straight at Colonel Roy Mustang.

The crowd fell into pin drop silence and the Fuhrer raised an eyebrow. But before he could speak, the Colonel broke in.

"I'm sure you are not very well acquainted with the rules Almonde. The exhibition is an individual performance. If you fight me, that would be analogous to bringing in a partner to help you, which is not allowed. Hence, your request is invalid."

Almonde slapped his palms together and a semi-cylindrical barrier erupted behind Mustang, cutting him off from the rest of his team. Murmurs broke out from all over the place.

_Did he just use Alchemy without a transmutation circle?_

_Where is the transmutation circle? I can't see any._

The Fuhrer smiled at the feat instead of looking surprised. But everyone was too busy focused on Almonde to notice.

"When I said I would like to, I did not say that my liking is centred on existing rules, nor did I ask for your approval."

Colonel Mustang felt an unusual warmth growing in his head. Who did the boy think he was speaking to?

"As a boy of thirteen, you are expected to address your elders a little more respectfully. Unfortunately, respect must be taught to those who do not possess the trait naturally."

Back there, Hughes asked something to the Fuhrer and he nodded. Hughes stepped forward and announced that an exception had been just issued by the Fuhrer and that the fight would be considered a valid exhibition. But then he asked Almonde if he knew what he was doing and that Colonel Roy Mustang was one of the most powerful Alchemists to ever exist.

Almonde chose to answer the questions with silence.

"I'm sorry boy, but you asked for this," said Roy Mustang as he clicked his index finger to his thumb and the boy erupted into flames. The crowd shrieked in horror. Even Riza hawkeye, who considered herself a ruthless sniper, looked away. Who could see a twelve year old boy burn to ashes?

Colonel Roy Mustang walked back majestically, not bothering for the hate cries and insults being shovelled at him. He closed his eyes. The boy would surely survive. He couldn't get rid of the boy that easily. But he needed to know who the boss is and who would give the orders.

His trance was broken by darkness engulfing him as the sun was closed down by a cylindrical barrier all around him. It had spontaneously erupted from the ground. Who had done this?

The audience back in the galleries gaped as the boy staggered up, the smoke clearing around him. He was horribly burnt, with his shirt and half of his pants being turned to ashes. The skin in his face was peeling off, and the exposed muscles were scorched and charred. His torso was even worse, with blood oozing out from every angle. He seemed to have lost vision in one of his eyes.

"A first degree burn," said the boy, panting, "You underestimate me, Colonel."

Colonel Roy Mustang looked utterly bewildered when the words addressed to him reached his ears.

"So you produce flames from sparks originating from the friction in between your fingers. The special glove hugely increases this friction, added to being composed of material which has a low incineration point, producing a spark easily. Then you adjust the oxygen content of the air to allow the fire to spread, easily engulfing your victim in no time at all."

"However, this technique is far from perfect and has a number of obvious limitations. For the first, your sparks cannot spread when there is a barrier separating the air you are using and the one your opponent is. Basically, your flame alchemy is useless now."

He managed a smile, even though it made him look even grosser.

"Which makes you an easy target."

The cylinder sunk back to the earth revealing Roy Mustang hanging from a mud wall in the crucification pose, with huge bars of mud holding him in place. They ran in between his fingers also, holding them rigid, making sure that he couldn't click.

"However, you cannot depend on what your opponent chooses to show you. That is the reason why I have cut off your access to tectonic energy of the earth by hanging you at a level where your feet doesn't touch the ground. Now, your alchemical powers are close to nothing."

Colonel's eyes displayed a rage close to nothing that his subordinates have come to associate with him. He looked like he could murder this boy any moment.

"That is not all. Of course, a man of your status obviously can have access to catalysts. So if there is a hidden transmutation circle drawn somewhere in your body, you could, theoretically, still use alchemy. Hence I have made sure that none of your body touches the mud wall other the areas pinning you to the spot. Of course, there is a blank gap in between them and the mud wall deep within the hollows to which they are connected, so you do not have access to the huge earth content of the mud wall. You can say that mud screws are holding you in position the same way ordinary screws holds things to walls. If you had enough strength, you could overcome their grip, but I am assuming you don't. Anyway, even if you can use alchemy, the only substance you have access to now is air. Obviously a catalyst cannot produce tornadoes and other things of that intensity, other than the philosopher's stone, which is obviously considered a folk tale."

"The best you can manage now is to cut off the oxygen I am breathing in for some time until I faint. Even then I would survive for a minute or so, which would be enough for me to counterattack. So this is over."

The Fuhrer, from the platform, raised a thumb.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: **Okay, it has been quite some time since I posted but I had forgotten some of the ideas I had earlier because of the exams. Just finished re-planning the story. Anyway, this chapter would be retelling of a very familiar scenario. Hope you enjoy.

**Review Replies:** theallenwalker- I have no intentions of abandoning this story. It's very close to me.

otakgirlyy- Thanks. I hope you enjoy this update.

* * *

**Chapter 5 : Healing**

Lior seldom had visitors like these around. So it wasn't very surprising when the manager of the snack stall asked Almonde a weird question.

"Are you street performers?"

Both Almonde and Peener choked. After a few glasses of water, and a few pat on the backs from strangers, they managed to breathe normally. Of course the patting hadn't been of much effect to Almonde, considering the fact that the back portion of his dress was completely metallic.

The dark skinned boy screeched out, "Which part of us looks like street performers old man?"

"Well, which part doesn't? A boy with semi armour, or whatever that dress is called, and a dark-haired, red eyed boy who wears jewellery on his waist."

He almost punched the guy after that statement. "These are not jewellery, old man. These are crystallized alchemical medicines. I am an alchemical doctor who works for the military and the guy there is Almonde, 'the Thousand-Bodied Alchemist'."

Mouths began speaking everywhere behind them.

_The Thousand Bodied Alchemist? Isn't that the youngest state alchemist ever? The tactical genius?_

_He does look odd. Unusually quiet for a boy his age. And look at the symbol in his suit. That's the symbol for the State Alchemists._

_I heard that he went on a vacation with the Fuhrer's family. That's how highly regarded he is._

Almonde ignored everything and continued with his meal.

"Dogs of the Military, huh? Well, what are you doing here?"

"Nothing, we were just crossing the desert and decided to spend a few dollars here," Almonde spoke finally.

"That's a bit odd," the old man said. After a pause, he began again, "Don't you try to fool me, boy. You Alchemists never say the truth. I bet you are after something about which you cannot speak."

The Ishvalan boy looked at Almonde with cautious eyes. _Please, don't snap here._

Almonde took a deep breath, "You are correct, we are after something about which we cannot speak. But not for the reasons you think."

He got up. "Let's find a place to stay peener. That's enough time wasted on a meal."

He nodded and thanked Ishvala in his heart. He had managed to keep his calm. It was nothing less than a miracle.

"I haven't seen you guys around. Are you new to the town?" An unfamiliar female voice said.

It was a girl in her mid-twenties. She had brown skin with black hair and pink fringes.

She smiled. "I'm Rose. Nice to meet you. Do you want me to show you around the town? I have enough spare time today."

"No, Rose. These are state Alchemists on duty. They do not have time to appreciate our small town," the old manager said.

"I see. So busy at such small ages, huh? But, if you can, visit the church of Leto before you leave. It's one of the marvels of this town. You can even get a blessing from father Cornello for a safe journey ahead."

Almonde merely stared.

"Oops, I have to get going. Have to deliver these to the church. It was nice talking to you. May Leto bless you."

"Say old man, is this Cornello guy the same guy who is giving the sermon in the radio?" asked Peener, with crooked eyebrows.

"That's him. He is a wondrous man. A miracle do-er. Came to our town about a month back. Since then, Lior had never had to look down. Everyone works so much harder now, inspired. The economy is growing exponentially. The diseases have all vanished. It is the power of Miracles."

Almonde and Peener looked at each other. That look meant, "Remember what we heard earlier?"

_Have faith people. God shall answer your prayers. The living shall be granted with eternal life and the dead shall be reborn. Happiness shall thrive. Such is the will of God. _

Earlier, they had just ignored it, but now, it sounded particularly suspicious. Eternal life? Immortality? Rebirth? Bringing back the dead?

_It couldn't be true, could it?_

Their thoughts were interrupted by the cries of an old woman. She had collapsed on the ground and was howling for help. A crowd gathered around her immediately and obstructed their view. Everyone in the snack center ran to check in too. Almonde and Peener followed.

They were small, so they pushed their way right to the middle. Someone was splashed water on her and someone else was pushing her chest up and down. In vain. Peener rushed forward.

"Make way. Experienced doctor here. Oops, sorry, emergency here. Sorry for stepping on your feet."

He sat down beside the woman.

"Minor sunstroke here. Nothing major. She'll be fine in a jiffy. I'm an alchemical doctor."

"What, you're just a kid. Move away."

"Age doesn't have anything to do with skill. Let's see, this should do." He placed the dark green crystal on her chest and began drawing patterns all around her. Not alchemical circles, but complex geometrical patterns. He then slammed his palms down and the stone began to glow. On its perimeter, the exact pattern Peener had drawn began to darken out. The moment the entire pattern had been traced on the stone, the woman opened her eyes and began panting.

"There you go." Peener said, putting the stone back to its chain.

_That was amazing. What was that?_

_I have never seen alchemy like that._

_Then was it the power of miracles?_

_This boy can …_

Someone brave from the crowd stepped forward. "Who are you, kid? And how can you use the power of miracles? Are those stones gifts from the sun God?"

"No sir. I am an alchemist and these are ordinary alchemical material."

_He's lying. He's hiding it._

_Yeah, I know a miracle when I see it._

_He must have stolen that from the church. _

Peener didn't like where this was going. A hand grabbed him and pulled him among the masses. He diffused among the many people there.

"Where are we going?" Peener asked.

"Where else? We have a church to visit."


End file.
